Auld Lang Syne
by TheCatalystx
Summary: In Beacon Hills, life can be exciting. It can be everything my old life wasn't. It can be a new start. Or, it could be exactly as I remembered, and I could end up dead in a month. But hey. It's like my mom says, you can't start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading your last one. Let's hope I don't end up dead. For old time's sake.


"Just pull into the grass," I said, pulling my brown hair out from under the strap of my tank top. The skin on my shoulders was hot, and I began to regret bypassing the sunscreen I saw at the store for the pack of discount root beer.

"Do you guys even own that much stuff?" Kurt asked. Honestly, I hadn't invited him inside all that much, so it wasn't surprising that he had to ask.

"Oh no, the majority of these boxes are probably stuffed with styrofoam peanuts." I watched as his silver car weaved around the massive moving truck that stuck out of our short driveway. A steady stream of movers flowed in and out of my house, not unlike a line of ants. "Pretty sure my mom is trying to make us look richer than we are. You know, first impressions and all that."

"Really?" I could see Kurt's disdain even from here. "Do you know how long it takes styrofoam to break down?"

I snorted. "You could explain it to my mom."

Kurt disconnected the call. "Explain what to me?"

My mom approached from behind. Several things could have drawn her over—the fact that I haven't done much to help pack up the house, the way I'm dressed, or the slightly overweight boy who wheezed his way across the sidewalk in my direction.

"Styrofoam takes half a millennia to break down."

She wasn't even listening. Her eyes were fixed solely on Kurt, her lip slightly curled until he was near enough to see, and then a calm, polite mask fell over her deceptively young face. "Are you here to help?"

Kurt promptly turned on his heel, and I rushed forward to grab him by the laptop in his hand. He almost lost grip due to his sweaty palms, but he quickly latched on and shot me a scathing glare.

"Wait! Relax," I smirked, tempted to laugh at how quickly the suggestion of labor had chased the boy off. "I'll give you the papers, and you can go."

"Papers?" It was visibly apparent now that my mother was quickly losing patience. Her gaze flitted to Kurt but remained steady on me.

"It's for the yearbook."

My mom frowned, and a spark of indignation lit within me. I felt my temper shorten. "What yearbook?" She asked.

Kurt looked on, and I felt my eye twitch. "This year's," I said. "The same one I've been working on for the past four months."

"But, honey," my mom said with patience. "You're moving to Beacon Hills."

"I _know_!" I snapped. My shoulders were drawn tight, and Kurt really looked to have a foot itching to beat a fast retreat.

Mom shrugged widely and shook her head at me. "Okay, so then what's the problem? I need your help. Haven't you done enough for them?"

"Uh, it's really okay," Kurt mumbled so low I almost didn't catch it. "I'm sure that Alex and I can fix it. You seem—er, busy. And I should go." He seemed to squirm under my mother's glare, and I felt another spark of resentment.

"Yes," she agreed before I had the chance to get a word in edgewise. "And when you leave, try not to mess up the lawn too much. We just sold the house."

I watched as he fled the scene back to his car and felt all the air and optimism that had filled me since he called this morning escape in a long, heavy sigh.

"Now then, back to the matter at hand. The basement still has boxes that need to go. Come on."

I didn't immediately follow, and after a moment, my mom turned in exasperation.

"Really, Lena, what is it now? You know we don't have all day. Your grandmother hates to be kept up past Wheel of Fortune."

I considered for a moment. Then, "Nothing." This time, it was my mother who watched as I brushed past her and went down to the basement, not another word passing between us.

* * *

I wish I could say that things got better after that. That after we got to the house, three hours later, well after Wheel of Fortune had ended, due to one flat tire and a rather unsatisfying dinner at the sandwich shop along the way, my mom had patted me on the cheek and kissed me good night. But none of that happened.

Instead, the second we set foot on our new property, she made a call and disappeared into the master suite for the rest of the night. I made sure to stay up long enough to thank all the guys from the moving company. I think they felt bad for me because they went the extra mile to set up my bed before they left.

I perched on my new window seat and stared outside, thinking of the unfinished yearbook, Kurt's only impression of my personal life, and whether or not the boy next door knew he was a werewolf yet.


End file.
